Thursday, August 4, 2011

Cowboys & Aliens: thoughts

I watched Cowboys & Aliens with Jon and our friend, Sammy. I'm not a fan of going to the theater. I enjoy sitting at home and watching movies with the comfort of spreading out, taking frequent snack intermissions, and basically being more in control. But I love Science Fiction, and I love westerns. The fact that this movie combines the two, and has Harrison Ford AND Sam Rockwell (I don't even have to mention Daniel Craig, do I?) in it, well, it drew me into my favorite theater.

I wasn't expecting any kind of spiritual experience. I wasn't even expecting it to be that awesome. But the movie blew me away, even more so than Inception, which says a lot. Besides the intensity of the emotional healing that was birthed in the characters throughout the movie, there were two things that I felt God was pointing out.

The first was that the aliens were never called aliens by the humans. They were always referred to as demons, because the concept of alien life was new to humans, and the spiritual realm was more respected by them than it is to most humans now. It was probably only 15-20 minutes into the movie when I suddenly thought of the Nephilim, and how it couldn't be entirely coincidental that this movie referred to the aliens as demons. I have heard much talk lately about Nephilim, and how alien life could very be Nephilim. And not only alien life, but also popular characters such as Bigfoot, vampires, werewolves, ect. I know this sounds crazy, because it did to me at first too. But lately, it has been planted into my mind that this could be VERY true and VERY real. Where have all of these stories come from, after all?

I won't branch off of that topic further, but in the pursuit of becoming less apathetic, I thought I would mention that I am interested in learning more of this subject. I know that my mom is learning what she can about Nephilim, and I have a couple other friends who have felt the prodding from the Lord to learn more. I don't think that they are imagining things.

The second thing that stood out to me is something that I have just now been noticing when I watch westerns. The fact that back then, when the world was much simpler, and we didn't have so many things attached to us at all times, the only thing that a man truly had was the trust others gave him. People had nothing to go on about each other except their word and their honor. The truth was more valuable. The look in a person's eyes was studied and remembered. Small details of a person's looks and character traits were noticed and recorded.

People didn't put up with all the flakiness and lying that we see nowadays. If someone didn't tell the truth, or offer to help a hand, people took notice and REMEMBERED. Today, we do not value the strong character traits that should still and always define who someone is. We stand on materialism, fake smiles, and pledge allegiance to being pushed over by others. If we are so angry, day in and day out, it is probably because we don't stand for the truth in others anymore! We let everyone get away with hurting each other, and we are so used to it and blind, that we don't even see that we are being hurt. We call it life. We call it "being too busy". We call it a lot of things, but the only thing it is is Fake.

I am this way. I am a big flake and a fake. I don't see my standards being set, and I don't see my opinions being lasting, if they are even made. My time is squandered, and I don't understand my fellow man, or his or her value. I am very much a candle, flickering in and fading out, moment by moment. If my memory is to be lasting, I want it to be made of people who count. I would like others' to see the same valuable traits in me, so that their memories of me don't reveal a shallow being.

Jon and I watched one of our old favorites, Big Fat Liar, a couple nights ago. We talked tonight about how it reminded us both of the same thing: "The truth is not overrated."

I used to not want to care what anyone thought of me, because I saw God's opinion as the only one that mattered. Now, though, I see that whenever I open up my heart to others, I am opening it up to caring about their thoughts and feelings. I care about them, and therefore care about whatever they think, even their thoughts of me. This is a good thing, as long as I don't take it for granted. Respect for and from others is to be cherished.

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